


Play Fair

by GreyLiliy



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-15
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-01 17:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5213897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zim’s out of time, Dib. He really can’t afford to play fair any more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Felt like writing some Zim fanfic & wanted to do something a little more on the serious/darker side of things, while still keeping them all as their wonderful selves. Decided to go ahead and do the whole thing at once, since I’m notorious for leaving ongoing fics unfinished. Heh, still ended up being on the open-ended side, but I think that works okay. Quite a few episodes ended that way, so what the heck! It is done, though! On a separate note, I’m eternally amused that Zim is like over 200 years old. XD

Dib stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, fingers warm beneath the leather gloves. The winter wind nipped at his cheeks as he trotted out toward the neutral area of the park, while the stun gun hidden on the back of his belt tapped against his side. It was a welcome comfort when walking around after dark, though funny enough, Dib had to worry more about other people trying to mug him than monsters or aliens.

Though it worked on them, too.

He yawned into his hand, before checking his watch. Zim had said he wanted to meet at the dog park at eleven. At the rate he was going, Dib would arrive a little early, which was fine for him. Zim was often sporadic (or rather, when was he not?) and often either forget his own meeting times and showed up an hour late, or the little runt jumped the gun and would have been there for an hour before Dib arrived.

Dib hoped it was the latter this time around. Despite the fact Zim was always a hundred times more annoying when he was eager and raring to go, Dib wanted to at least attempt to be in bed before two in the morning tonight. They both had exams in the morning, and frankly, Dib didn’t want to fail because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. His dad was already on his case about forgetting to apply for early admission to college, so his grades slipping was unforgivable.

“I know you have a fun time with that alien friend (you really think he’d have gotten citizenship by now!) of yours, but your grades come first, son!” His father had exclaimed, face buried in his lab work.

Dib had long since given up explaining, and just took the lecture, ending it with a neutral, “You got it, dad.”

The park was coming up in the distance and Dib turned his attention back to the present. Zim wanted to meet up, and that was usually nothing good. Sometimes the alien wanted to brag about his latest plans (more often than not, this was what Dib could expect at one of these things), other times he wanted to borrow something (which usually dealt with a world domination plan he was trying to hide), and there was the rare occasion that Zim called Dib up to find out what their homework was because he hadn’t been paying attention in class. That last one was always sort of amusing in that it was so…normal, if that was even a way to express it.

As Dib rounded the corner, he spotted GIR chewing on a stick, wearing his green dog costume. The little robot seemed enamored with his dog-act, despite missing his fake leash, and Dib couldn’t help the tiny smile. He could hate Zim forever, but it was really hard to hold anything against GIR. The stupid little thing even got along with Gaz!

When he looked up, Dib froze in place.

Zim was out of his disguise, standing still and his face was drawn into a pensive glance. He was there on time and calm. Dib’s stomach churned in an awful way and he approached slowly.

Over the years, he’d noticed that Zim had two modes: Extraordinarily stupid, or oddly intelligent. There was almost no in between for the small alien. He was dangerous both ways, but it was that second one where Dib always came closest to dying, and received unwanted reminders that his thing with Zim wasn’t a game. He’d made the mistake of treating it that way as a child, but no longer.

Tonight, Zim was intelligent.

* * *

Dib approached with care, his feet digging into the gravel of the dog park. He stopped next to GIR, a few feet away from Zim. The small alien hadn’t grown so much as a millimeter since they had met. He claimed his lack of growth over the years was part of his skin condition, and it fooled everyone. Just like always. However tonight, even towering over Zim with Dib’s newly gained six-foot height, Dib felt very small.

Something about Zim had changed, and it made Dib itch for his stun gun.

“So, what is it this time, Zim?” Dib asked, keeping his voice light. The last thing he wanted to do right now was let Zim know that he was scared. “You woke Gaz up when you called, so I hope it’s something good. Though I’m not really complaining. It always saves me a lot of time figuring out how to stop you when you tell me what your plans are.”

“That is true,” Zim said, oddly thoughtful. He turned his head slightly and hummed. Zim’s smug tone irked Dib to no end, but it was better than the dangerous aura he’d had earlier. “Giving the enemy a handicap was part of fair play, after all. It’s hard to expect a smeet to compete with the Irken Elite when he has nothing to stand on.”

“Smeet?” Dib asked, blowing out a breath of white in the cold air. “That’s a new insult.”

“On the contrary, Dib,” Zim said. He held his hands up and shrugged. “It’s the first time I haven’t insulted you. Smeet are children, and you were a child. So I think it’s a fairly accurate term, don’t you?”

“And the reason you’re playing nice tonight?” Dib asked, narrowing his eyes. GIR abandoned his stick and fell against Dib’s leg. He hugged it, squeaking softly. “You sick or something?”

“No, you’re not that lucky,” Zim said. He crossed his arms and kept his head facing slightly to Dib’s left. It was hard to tell where he was looking through his red eyes, but Dib kept his focus ready. “The fact of the matter is, I guess you deserve a little credit. All considered, you’ve been a fairly worthy opponent in all this.”

That was Dib’s cue to make a sarcastic comment, or insert a bit of self-praise, but something about Zim’s tone made him keep his mouth shut.

“Somehow, even as a child, you managed to foil quite a few of my brilliant and ingenious plans to take over your planet,” Zim said. He held his arms out and laughed. “It was even fun! For the record, that worthiness is one of the reasons that I always made sure to play fair.”

“Play fair?” Dib asked. Memories of getting tricked out of his room by robots, or having his life flash before his eyes in holograms came to mind. Though, he wasn’t wrong. In all fairness, Zim never out right stabbed Dib in the back, and there were multiple opportunities where he could have just killed Dib out right but didn’t. Dib shrugged, “Yeah, I guess you did.”

Dib didn’t feel the Pak Leg stab through his shoulder until it was clean through the other side and he was pinned to the ground like a butterfly.

* * *

“I do apologize for that, Dib,” Zim said, oddly calm.

He hovered over Dib, using three of his Pak Legs as a tripod, while the fourth remained buried in Dib’s flesh. Blood leaked from the wound, but most of it was kept contained within Dib’s body thanks to the limb acting as a stopper. Dib’s hands wrapped around it, and his head craned to see where it impacted. The leg was nestled neatly between his clavicle and shoulder blade. The pain was surreal, and Dib was grateful for the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“What the hell, Zim?” Dib grit out, doing everything he could to remain calm. This was new. This was different. Their meetings sometimes delved into fights, but nothing like this. Never a sucker punch in the dark. Dib counted to ten in his head; ignored the pain. “I thought we were talking?”

“We still are, technically,” Zim said, sighing. He rubbed the underside of his chin, and Dib watched as his antennae laid flat against his head. He almost looked upset. “As I said, normally, I find you enough of an opponent to avoid resorting to such underhanded tactics, but sadly, I’m out of time.”

Dib considered his options. His arms and legs were free, but the one arm was useless with his shoulder pinned. With Zim on his Pak Legs, Dib doubted he could move fast enough to hit him before he moved out of the way. Those stupid scurrying things were always the worst pain to deal with, and now it was literal.

GIR made a whining noise, distracting Dib and he watched as the small robot walked away. He sat next to a tree, his ears down and strangely quiet. Even GIR was upset and serious. Dib couldn’t shake the sudden jolt of realization that he might actually die tonight.

No, no! He couldn’t give up. Focus, Dib! FOCUS!

Maybe he could yank the leg out, or distract Zim. If he could just get off the ground, maybe Dib could just flat out run. Zim wasn’t himself tonight and Dib had long, long since gotten over being ashamed of running away if it meant he could regroup and survive.

“I can see you’re upset,” Zim said. He tilted his leg to the side, stretching the ripped flesh. Dib barely clenched his teeth together in time to avoid screaming. “But that’s no reason to ignore me.”

“What is wrong with you tonight?” Dib yelled, against his better judgement. “You’re acting weird!”

“I told you, Dib,” Zim said. “I’m out of time.”

“Time? What time?” Dib asked, trying not to squirm. The urge to wriggle away clawed at him, intense enough he considered risking his arm getting ripped off. His dad could build him a robot one. It’d be fine. Dib shook his head, and held to the leg, his fingers shaking. “What are you even talking about?”

“Operation Impending Doom II is coming to an end, and I haven’t conquered your planet yet!” Zim shrieked. His voice raised in pitch, his ranting coming full force as he hung above Dib and growled. “All of the other invaders have already overthrown their planets, and either destroyed them for scraps or enslaved their populations! There’s only three or four left who’ve yet to complete their assignments, and they’re all in the wrap up stages! I’m the only one who hasn’t made any real progress and as much as I hate to admit it, that’s your fault.”

““Of course it is,“ Dib grunted. His anger was starting to override his pain, and Dib reached for it. Dib stopped. Reach. He snaked one hand under his coat, as he egged Zim on to distract him. “I’m not going to let you take over my planet, Zim!”

“Yes, yes, and you’ve been very adamant about that since you were a smeet,” Zim growled. Had his human disguise been on, Dib would have seen his eyes roll. Zim huffed. “And that’s been fairly admirable, considering you’re the only one who’s even bothered to try, save for maybe your sister on occasion.”

“As much as I’d like for people to take me seriously and stop calling me crazy,” Dib said, his hand wrapping around the stun gun. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to sit back and let you take over just because they’re not asking for help.”

“Which is why you’re pinned down,” Zim said. “The time for playing fair is over, Dib. You’re in the way, and I need to expedite my mission.”

“Forgive me for not playing along,” Dib said.

He flipped the stun gun on, the end of it crackling to life in a flash. He jammed the live end into Zim’s Pak Leg, and screamed right along with him as the electricity shocked them both. Zim yanked his leg back and away, a gush of blood leaving the wound. Dib held to the stun gun and rolled up and away. He turned just in time to see Zim shake off the shock, and turn toward Dib with a murderous glance.

Dib did the most logical thing he could think of: He ran.

* * *

“Please still be up, please still be up!” Dib chanted to himself as his chest pounded. He pulled his watch up and activated the communicator while still running. He refused to look behind him, and instead listened for the sound of Zim’s Pak Legs. “Gaz! Wake up!”

“What do you want, moron? It’s after midnight,” Gaz answered through the small vid window. He could hear her Gameslave buttons clacking away and sucked in a breath. She was up! “It better be good.”

“Zim’s gone crazy, more than usual I mean!” Dib said, rounding the corner onto the main street. He slowed to a quick walk, hoping that the other people milling about might deter Zim for a straight up attack. He stuffed the edge of his coat into the wound on his shoulder, but remembered the wound was also open on the back. He could feel the blood soaking into his shirt and when he looked down he saw the blood spatters. “He stabbed me. I’m bleeding and he’s still mad. I don’t know where he is and I could really use some back up right now, Gaz. Please!”

There was a slight hesitancy over the other end of the line. The deadpanned response screamed of disbelief. “He stabbed you?”

“With his Pak Legs, look, Gaz, I’ll explain everything later but right now I really need you to get the car,” Dib said. “I don’t think I’m going to make it home before Zim catches up with me.”

“You’re right about that, Dib,” Zim said, the snarl coming from the bush to his right.

Dib didn’t manage to turn in time to avoid Zim’s grip as the Irken grabbed his injured arm and yanked him through the bushes. Dib rolled as he was tossed into the grass on the other side of the sidewalk, unable to stop from crying out in agony as his wounded arm hit the ground.

“Dib? If you’re playing around I’m going to kill you!” Gaz called through the other end of his watch. Dib pushed himself up, and screamed as the Pak Leg pinned him to the ground again, this time with his stomach done. It dug through the same wound, and Zim leaned over Dib, ripping the communicator off his arm. “Zim?”

“Hate to cut this short, but I’ve got unfinished business with the Dib. He won’t be calling you back,” Zim said. The Irken crushed the device in his hand and looked down at Dib. “Now then, where were we?”

“Thinking up a new way to stop you,” Dib said, glaring up from the ground.

“Good luck with that.”

Dib was unconscious before he even registered that Zim had slammed his head into the ground.


	2. Chapter 2

GIR plastered his face against the glass tube that held Zim’s captive. The tiny robot squeaked as he moved across it, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Master! When’s he going to wake up? I wanna’ play with the big head!”

Zim didn’t answer, and instead sat in his chair. He ignored the hyper robot, and tried not to be too bitter about how happy GIR Was that ZIm had changed his mind.

He always knew that human was trouble.

Zim had gone out there tonight to kill Dib. That was the plan. Meet like always, catch him off guard by stabbing him, and then end it. With Dib out of the way, he’d conquer the planet in record time and hopefully have it make up for his years of failure that made him ashamed to report to the Tallest some days.

But he hadn’t. Zim slammed his fist into his arm rest and glared at the tank. He didn’t kill the stupid idiot, stink-pig!

It should have been easy. Humans were fragile. The Dib was wounded, unconscious and already halfway to his doom from the blood loss alone. But Zim had stood there. His Pak Leg raised above the Dib’s back, right over his wretched heart-organ. Ready to stab and end it. (Zim had even considered sticking it through his stupid big head, going straight through the brain.) But he hesitated.

Zim had no room for hesitation! He’d already thrown out his fair play! Zim had already accepted the shame of killing his opponent in such a fashion. But he still!

GIR had shown up during his hesitation, and sat next to Dib’s wretchedly large head. The stupid little thing had asked if Zim was done and the big head was gone.

“No, GIR,” Zim sighed. He dropped his Pak Leg back to the ground and yanked the human up by the collar of his jacket. Defeated, Zim started to drag the body back toward his ship. “He’s alive.”

GIR’s cry of joy and declaration of making cookies to celebrate felt like a stab to Zim’s chest. He didn’t know what was worse: That he’d resorted to such underhanded tactics to win, or that he’d spared the enemy.

Zim glared at Dib floating in the tank. He’d wrapped the wound (cursing the whole while!) and thrown him in there to recover. The Dib could stay in there.

“It’s the same,” Zim hissed to himself. “I haven’t failed. It’s all the same. I wanted Dib out of the way and now he’s out of the way.”

Zim slammed his fist on the side of his console. “Computer!”

“What?” The voice droned, bored yet again. Zim really needed to fix that at some point. He needed his equipment at top capacity! “What now?”

“Make sure the Dib stays unconscious,” Zim said.

“Sedative level increased in oxygenated liquid,” the computer droned. “Is that all?”

“That’s all.”

Zim stood from his chair and glared at the unconscious human. He slammed his hand against the side of the tank and hissed. “Sleep well, Dib. When you wake up, it’s going to be an entirely different world.”

* * *

“Intruder at the front gate,” the computer droned, distracting Zim from his work at the weapon’s table. Zim looked up to the ceiling and narrowed his eyes. The computer saved Zim the trouble of demanding who it was by answering, “Yes, it’s her again.”

“The Sister is persistent,” Zim hissed. He slammed his work goggles on the table and walked up the stairs. Ever since he’d cut off communications after destroying Dib’s stupid watch, the Dib-Sister had arrived on his doorstep, demanding her brother back. He honestly hadn’t thought she would care, but apparently Zim had slightly miscalculated (He wasn’t wrong!). He’d shooed her away with lasers, but she always came back. HIs upgraded defenses had held her off so far, but his patience was starting to wear thin. “Far too persistent.”

He made it to the top of his base, and stomped to the front door. His robot parents sat useless in the corner, disconnected to prevent from accidentally letting the nuisance in. Not bothering with his disguise he opened the door and yelled straight up at her face (curse humans and their height!!). “Zim has told you a thousand times! The Dib is dead! Leave me alone.”

“He’s not dead,” Gaz said, her eyes narrowed and alive with more energy than her laid back posture gave away. Zim could see the denial was even more fierce with her than it was with himself, though they were both denying different things. “You’ve had your fun, Zim. Now give him back already. Dad won’t stop asking where he is, and it’s getting to be a real pain.”

“The Dib is dead,” Zim repeated, rubbing the side of his head. He cared not for this girl or her father. He didn’t even care about the Dib. Who should be dead but wasn’t and—Zim growled. “I stabbed him. Being the weak, pathetic human that he was, he bled to death. Go away.”

“He’s not dead,” Gaz repeated. She gripped her fists, and glared down at Zim. He felt something cold growing in the air, but Zim ignored it. Gaz took a step closer, threatening to let herself into the house and have her own search. “Stop playing around and give me my brother back.”

Zim needed proof that Dib was dead. He wasn’t, but he at least needed this girl to think he was. That was the only way she’d leave. The Dib-sister was too apathetic for revenge, and if he was lucky the shock would keep her busy long enough for him to finish his latest plan.

“Stay there,” Zim said.

He slammed the door shut and returned to his lab. He stomped straight to Dib’s tank and yanked over the small storage box full of the Dib’s belongings. He sorted through the mess until he found the perfect proof. Pulling out Dib’s favorite trench coat, Zim put his fingers alongside the giant rip, and smirked at the blood soaked into the fabric. If this didn’t convince her, nothing would.

“What is this?” Gaz asked, holding the coat in her hands after Zim threw it at her. She gripped the fabric so hard her knuckles turned white. “What is this, Zim?”

“I told you, many many times and now I will tell you one last time,” Zim said, making sure to sound as haughty as possible. “The Dib is dead. There’s his coat as proof. It’s all that’s left of him after I incinerated the rest, and I had meant to keep it as a trophy, but if giving it to you is what it’ll take to get you out of here, then so be it. But, if you happen to want more, like say the rest of his blood, check the park. It’s all over.”

“You’re lying,” Gaz whispered. Her fingers shook. “He’s not dead. Where is he?”

“Believe what you want,” Zim answered. He shut the door again and waited by the window. The Dib-sister stood there for another five minutes, before she slowly turned and walked back down Zim’s walkway. He held his breath until she got in the car and drove away. “Finally.”

Zim narrowed his eyes and headed back to the lab as fast as he could. He may have miscalculated the Dib-Sister’s apathy and who knew how long it would take her to collect herself.

He needed to finish. Now.

* * *

Paranoia fueled Zim’s expediency.

The thought of the Dib-sister arriving at any point in time with the Membrane arsenal at her disposal moved Zim’s fingers faster and worked as a wonderful motivator. It didn’t matter that he could, as a last resort, throw her brother at her to stop her assault at the last second. That wasn’t really an option. Zim growled. Dib was supposed to be dead.

Not still floating alive in a tank.

“I made cupcakes!” GIR shouted behind Zim. The Irken Elite groaned as his robot did as he pleased. GIR wasn’t necessary for this plan, so he let him. GIR placed a few cupcakes on the floor in front of Dib’s tank, next to the stack of other things he’d been gathering for when the human “woke up.” GIR tapped on the tank. “He’s been asleep a long time.”

“And he’s staying that way until we rule the planet, GIR. How many times do I have to tell you!?” Zim yelled over his shoulder. GIR saluted and said something along the lines of “Yes! My master!” before smashing a cupcake into the glass wall near Dib’s mouth. Zim huffed. “Never mind. It’s pointless talking to you.”

If all went as planned, the Earth would be conquered by the end of the week. Following that, Zim had a time table set in place that should have the entire population enslaved and praising the Irken Armada by the end of the month. Zim had given himself to the end of the year to dispose of any rebel groups that might arise.

Then and only then, would he present his prize to the Tallest.

They’d been getting more and more cross with him over the years, and even Zim was starting to feel their irritation. They weren’t amused with his progress, and after trusting him with a mission, he could not fail them! He would make it in time to show off his work before Operation Impending Doom II was complete!

“Just you wait, filthy humans,” Zim cackled to himself. He soldered the chips into place on his weapon, each little seal one step closer to finishing. “Soon you will all bow to Zim!”

He looked over his shoulder and smirked at his captive in the tank. The only good part about failing to kill Dib, is that now Zim would get to see his face when he saw the world destroyed and know that he failed.

Dib would never bow to Zim, but he could be broken.

Zim went back to his work, finding that a more suitable reason to keep the teenager alive than the fact Zim considered him worth saving.

A much better reason.

* * *

“You have the worst timing, Dib-Sister,” Zim shouted. The girl approached him, murder in her eyes and a pathetic human knife in her hand. “But you’re too late! This machine will wipe out every electrical device on the planet save for my superior Irken tech! You’ll all be helpless!”

“Last chance to tell me where my brother is, Zim,” Gaz said. “Or you’re going to regret that I was ever born.”

“Silence!” Zim shouted. He was a good twenty feet above the Dib-Sister’s head on his platform. His machine was proud and ready to go, hovering just above his head. The controls were at his fingertips. All he had to do was turn on the device. If he could do that, it wouldn’t matter what she did. Irkens healed quickly. So even if she got a hit in, he could stop her. He was superior in every way. “Sit and watch like a good human-pig.”

Zim slammed his fist into the button and the machine whirled. Gaz jerked her head to the side, just as the top of his weapon exploded into light. She covered her eyes as the blast covered the entire cityscape, and the lights all flickered off at once. The sounds of cars stopping and the noise of people investigating meant his plan was working!

“YES! Without your electricity, all of you will be powerless!” Zim said, grinning wide. He jumped up, throwing his hands in the air. Victory! Zim laughed, loving every second of his well deserved success! “Bow to Zim!”

Zim jumped to his Pak Legs as Gaz dove for him from the platform railing. She snarled and made another jump for him. “It’s bad enough you took my brother, but now you’ve ruined my games, too! I’m going to kill you!”

“You wont! If your brother couldn’t stop me, there’s no way you—“

Gaz hit Zim in the head with the handle end of her knife using speed he didn’t think humans were capable of. He hit the ground with a thud and scrambled back as she approached him with the knife.

“Time to die, Zim,” she growled. Gaz stalked closer, the weapon glinting and part of ZIm wondered why she didn’t bring one of her father’s many many guns. “I’m going to make sure that you suffer.”

Ah, that explained it.

Zim feared no human! And he had also come to the very sudden conclusion that the Dib-Sister could not possibly be human because right now he feared for his life. She radiated darkness, it falling off her in waves as she approached, stretching across the platform and threatening to suck him under and devour him in darkness.

Zim did the only thing he could do: Used his bargaining chip.

“THE DIB LIVES!” Zim shrieked, holding his hands up in front of his face. “If you kill Zim he’ll die for real!”

Gaz dropped her knife, the evil aura vanishing in a blink. She settled for harsh glaring and scoffed. “I knew you were lying.”

Zim most certainly did not squeal when she grabbed him by the antennae and yanked him back to his base.


	3. Chapter 3

“Wakey wakey! I made you a muffin,” GIR said, smacking Dib’s cheek.

He coughed up a lungful of liquid onto the ground. He felt shaky and weak, his vision blurred from the gunk clinging to his glasses. GIR shoved a muffin into his cheek, and he could taste the frosting when the robot dragged it toward his mouth.

“Knock it off, GIR,” Dib said, shoving the robot away. He wiped off his face with his arm, pulling off his water logged gloves. They hit the ground with a plop. Dib sucked in a breath and looked at the floor. He was in Zim’s lab. Why was he there?

“You are such an idiot, Dib,” Gaz said, standing over her confused brother. Dib looked up and blinked. “The worst kind. I’m going to kill you when we get home. Just so you know.”

“Gaz?” Dib sat up. His shoulder burned and he grabbed the wound. His fingers met wet bandages thrown over his torn shirt, and it all came in a flash. “Gaz! Zim. Where’s Zim?”

“He’s there, and back to his usual idiot self,” Gaz said, throwing her thumb over her shoulder. Dib saw Zim standing in the shadows, glaring and holding his arm. His body was hissing and he could see various wounds. “Now get up. We’re going home.”

Dib stood, holding his arm and looked down at himself. He still had his jeans and shirt, but his shoes and coat were missing. Dib looked behind him at the opened glass canister and shivered. He had thought for sure he’d been dead, but he couldn’t help but wonder if being Zim’s captive might not have turned out to be the worse option if Gaz hadn’t shown up.

He was going to thank Gaz so much when they got home.

Assuming she let him live long enough.

Part of Dib begged to hold this over Zim’s head, to mock him for failing. For once again losing to the human race, but something stopped him. The serious, terrifying Zim from earlier had yet to leave his mind, and Dib found that he couldn’t afford to underestimate him again. Not with Gaz here. Not after coming so close to actually dying.

“You’re right, let’s go,” Dib said, holding his arm. He followed Gaz and glanced at Zim briefly, just to make sure the alien was still where he could see him.

Zim narrowed his eyes as they passed, locking his gaze with Dib’s. “You haven’t won, you know.”

Dib paused, and Gaz growled in irritation as their progress was halted. Zim was too quiet; Dib too curious. “Oh?”

“My machine already worked,” Zim said. He looked up from his place near the wall, still holding his hissing wounds. “Power’s out all over, and your pathetic species will never figure out how to fix it all in time.”

“Power out?” Dib said, scrunching his nose. He looked to Gaz and she shrugged. “That was your plan you needed me out of the way for? Turn out the power?”

“All the power,” Zim smirked. His antennae flickered, and his mouth stretched wide in glee. “Save for my base, which is the only fully functional electrical spot on your planet.”

Something cold fell over Dib as Zim smiled.

“Speaking,” Zim said. He snapped his fingers. “Computer, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Gaz!” Dib screamed as the mechanical arm shot through the wall behind Zim. It hit her square in the chest and sent her straight through a tangle of pipes behind them. Dib made a move to go after her and see if she was okay, but cursed as his own side was hit. Zim had knocked him in the opposite direction with his Pak Leg, and Dib hit the ground with a thud. “Zim!”

“Sorry, Dib, but I told you before, I don’t have time for this,” Zim hissed. He screamed at the ceiling, his voice echoing in the large lab. “Computer! Restrain her on ice right now!”

“Zim! I’m going to kill—“

Gaz’s voice from the other room was cut off with a strangled grunt. Dib crawled to his feet just in time to see her thrown into a tube. The machine’s door slammed down, trapping her in the small tube. It froze shut and Dib scrambled to get to the door, only getting there in time to see it ice over on the inside. He saw Gaz frozen, rage engraved on her face. He banged on the outside and yelled.

“Let her out, Zim!”

“What part of this don’t you get?” Zim said, approaching quickly on his Pak Legs. He grabbed Dib by the edge of his shirt and lifted him off the floor as high as he could go. Dib’s toes brushed the floor, and he grabbed Zim’s arm. The Irken huffed. “There aren’t any more games, Dib No mercy. No nothing!”

Dib hit the ground as Zim threw him across the room, sliding to a halt. He could hear Zim mutter across the room to himself, irritated that his plan was behind schedule. Small bits of “should have killed him” and “what am I even doing!?” snuck into his monologue.

“I hate to break it to you, Zim, but a little power outage isn’t going to stop everyone,” Dib said, getting to his feet. He was too weak to fight, so hopefully he could talk until he could get to the lab exit. He’d come back for Gaz once he got help. Surely his Dad would at least come to his aid if Gaz needed him? And more importantly, his Dad could get the power turned on! Dib scooted back, trying to find his feet. “They can still fight back.”

“Your faith in your own species has always been one of your most pathetic traits,” Zim said. He darted forward on his Pak Legs, and rammed into Dib’s side, shoving him into the wall. “Now it’s time for you to go back to sleep!”

Dib struggled but found it useless. Between the Pak Legs, Zim’s anger and the computer’s aid, Dib was shoved back into the same tube he’d been freed from minutes earlier. The liquid flooded around him and he banged on the side as he felt the sedative seep into the tank and draw him into sleep.

His vision faded with Zim’s pensive expression and GIR banging on the side of the glass.

* * *

The next time Dib opened his eyes, he knew that something bad had happened, and that far more time had passed than he’d ever have liked to admit.

To begin, he had woken up outside of the specimen tube, sitting upright in a chair. Specifically, he was on Zim’s couch in his living room. Dib was dry, clean and had been allowed to wake up at his leisure instead of the jump-start wake that he had experienced before from Gaz’s attempted rescue. GIR sat next to him, humming quietly.

Dib tilted his head far enough to look out the window behind him, and sucked in a breath.

The city had been leveled.

HIs hand shook as he turned and grabbed the back of the couch, sitting up on the cushion. Dib licked his lips and clung to the back. He couldn’t be seeing this. What had happened? Why didn’t his father do something? Or Ms. Bitters? There was no way Zim had done…done that!

“Oh! I remembered what I was supposed to do!” GIR Said, hopping up from his seat. “Master wanted to know when you woke up.”

The robot jumped off the couch, and ran toward the back of the house. Dib took this moment to stumble to his feet and head to the front door. He yanked it open, and took a few steps out into the walkway of Zim’s lawn, which was still perfect and the same as the last time Dib saw it. The lawn gnomes’ eyes trailed after Dib as he crossed the yard, but none of them fired.

His bare feet were loud on the pavement and he stopped at the road. The surrounding houses were leveled. Small fires burned here or there, but for the most part everything was quiet.

The sound of Zim’s Pak Legs walking closer were loud in Dib’s ears. The alien stopped next to his side, remaining on his legs to stay eye-to-eye with Dib.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Zim smirked. He put his hands on his hips and spread a hand out, showing off his carnage. Dib shivered wondering just how far it spread. Zim kicked Dib in the arm. “And you didn’t think Zim could do it. Fool!”

“But how,” Dib asked himself more than Zim. He always went on and on about being humanity’s savior when he was a kid, but the fact is, Dib always hoped that the rest of the world would fight back if the alien ever really got a good plan going. Stopping Zim again and again was great, but some part of Dib always knew that he wanted the credit so badly because anyone else could have done it, too. “They had to have been able to stop you once they realized what was going on.”

“Your species is more pathetic than even you realized. Denial doesn’t suit you,” Zim huffed. He glanced at Dib, tilting his head before reaching into his PAK. “But you and your sister really were the only ones who bothered to do anything to stop me.”

Dib flinched. “Where is Gaz?”

“Still on ice,” Zim said, shivering slightly. It seemed Gaz still scared him, even when she was unconscious. Dib couldn’t say he blamed him. Zim tapped the rolled paper he had taken out in his hand. “You want to know the most annoying part about all of this? I’ve taken over your planet and they still don’t acknowledge the mighty Irken race!”

He smacked the paper into Dib’s chest and he unrolled it. He choked down the laugh, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Dib read the headline out loud, “Teenager with skin condition and pink eye takes over planet.”

“I never thought I’d be insulted on your behalf, but here we are,” Zim scoffed. “No amount of screaming I was Irken changed their minds either. Your people are truly stupid, Dib-pig.”

“So now what?” Dib asked, refusing to acknowledge what he said, even if he was starting to admit that it was true. “The armada comes?”

Zim fidgeted in place, his arms crossed.

“What?” Dib asked. He threw his hands out and tried to ignore the ache in his shoulder. The flesh was tender and burned with every movement. “You got you wanted. You don’t want to brag about your big plans and rub it all in my face?”

“Silence!” Zim shouted, rising up on the end of his legs. “ZIm was amazing! I conquered your planet! I won! I was every bit the Invader I knew I was!”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ coming up in this monologue,” Dib said, dropping his shoulders. GIR came running out of the house and dashed between the two of them. He started to roll around in the remains and screaming about open space. “Isn’t there?”

Zim muttered something under his breath, hissing.

Dib lifted a hand to his ear, and asked. “Couldn’t quite hear that.”

Zim screeched, “The Tallest didn’t want your stupid planet!”

Dib couldn’t help it; this time he laughed.

* * *

Dib nursed the black eye on his face, feeling it was worth it.

It’s not like Zim punched him that hard. Sure, it knocked Dib over, but compared to being stabbed earlier, it was nothing. And he’d gotten to laugh at Zim’s expense, so small price to pay, really.

Zim marched back and forth in the base of his lab, and Dib sat on a table with a piece of beef on his eye that GIR had been so thoughtful to bring him. He could see Gaz’s frozen chamber hidden in the back corner of the room. Zim had covered it with a sheet, and when Dib had gotten close enough to let her out, the computer had activated all of its defenses and Dib had to make a strategic retreat.

So, he appreciated that Zim wasn’t killing him or shoving him back into the specimen tube, and sat quietly while Zim worked on his computer. On the various screens, Dib could see his human peers rounded up and trapped in various large, monitored pens. They looked like cattle, but even more importantly:

“You have no idea what to do with everyone now, do you?” Dib asked, his lip quirking to the side in a half smile.

“Quiet! Zim knows exactly what he’s going to do!” Zim said. He smacked his hand down on the console and hissed. “Shut your big head!”

Dib snorted and shifted the slice of meat. He pulled his leg up, already missing his coat. And boots. Would it really have killed Zim to let him have the rest of his clothes back? Dib clicked his tongue. “You could just let everyone go?”

“HA, your attempt at humor is as pathetic as you are!” Zim shouted. He jumped to his Pak Legs and crossed the room. He leaned into Dib’s face and smacked the meat to the ground. GIR whined at its loss, but Dib let it fall. “Zim conquered this planet and Zim will decide it’s fate!”

“And what fate will that be?” Dib asked, leaning forward.

“Simple,” Zim said, shrugging. “If the Tallest don’t want this planet, than clearly it has no worth. Surely they weren’t aware of this when they sent the Mighty Zim here to conquer it.”

“Then what’s the point in keeping it?” Dib asked, resisting the urge to lean back.

Something shifted in Zim’s gaze, and Dib stilled on the table. He knew that look. Dib had seen it before, back in the park when Zim first had decided he was done playing around. Dib grit his teeth together. His heart pounded harder as he realized he’d said the exact wrong thing.

“There isn’t,” Zim answered.

* * *

Dib still had no idea what happened to his father.

Part of him wondered if that might not be for the best in some twisted way. Gaz was still somewhere in the depths of Zim’s new ship, the entirety of his old base having been transferred over with ease. If you’d told Dib that Zim’s lab could compress into the size of a spaceship when they’d first met, he would have laughed. But it started small, compresesd small again, and then came back into being, snuggling into its new mobile surroundings.

“Wheeeee!” GIR shouted, running around the main deck. The open space must have been surreal compared to the tiny space he’d been used to in Zim’s Voot Cruiser. GIR came to a halt in front of Dib and handed him a cupcake. “I made cupcakes!”

“Thanks, GIR,” Dib said. The robot saluted and ran off again. Dib bit into the cupcake and was glad for at least some reminders of home.

He still couldn’t make up his mind if what Zim had done was brilliant or stupid.

The idiot had sold the entire planet and its population to some other alien race. In exchange, he’d gotten a fancy new battleship. As far as Dib was concerned, it was a fairly unfair trade. Surely a planet was worth more than a ship, even if it was advanced, and was about the size of a football stadium. Zim had to have been ripped off, but then again, it’s not like Zim really wanted to run the planet anyway.

He wanted to conquer things, not take care of them afterwards.

“Don’t argue with me computer! Zim wants to find another planet! One the Tallest can’t refuse!” Zim screamed at the controls. Dib leaned back in his seat and huffed, almost smiling. He had been looking for weeks, but most planets were either already controlled by someone else or didn’t hold up to Zim’s standards. “Give me something!”

“You could always just ask your precious Tallest for a planet they want,” Dib offered. He tore off the wrapper of the cupcake and balled it up. He tossed it at GIR and the robot ate it. “Since it’s a gift for them, anyway.”

“SILENCE,” Zim shrieked. He turned around and pointed his finger at Dib. “i let you live so you could see Zim’s brilliance! Not talk!”

Dib had translated that a long time ago as “Zim didn’t want to be alone with only the robot for company.” Someone had to listen to that egomaniac’s monologuing. It just wasn’t the same without an audience.

“Just saying, it’d save you some time,” Dib said, slumping back in the seat. He rubbed his bandaged shoulder and frowned at it. If Zim had bothered to take care of the wound properly when it happened, it wouldn’t still be hurting now. But as it stood, Dib was sure the muscles there would be ruined for the rest of his life. “And you’re impatient enough as it is.”

“You don’t have to be conscious, Dib-pig,” Zim growled. He hopped onto his Pak Legs and hissed. “You could go back into that little tube until each victory occurs.”

Dib glared, but didn’t answer.

“Good, filthy-beast,” Zim said. He patted Dib’s head, and scurried back to the front console. Zim went back to his business, searching for planets. “It’s nice to see you’ve started to appreciate the superiority that is Zim.”

Dib turned his head and stared out into the vastness of space out of the window. He took a bite out of his cupcake and counted to ten.

Zim had said when this all started, that he was out of time, and couldn’t afford to play fair any more.

As far as Dib was concerned, his planet was enslaved, but still safe So, on the opposite end of things: Dib had all the time in the world. And besides, how long would it really take him to overthrow Zim’s ship, and get back to his planet? From there, it’d be a simple matter of learning new technology to give him an edge, and then overthrow the new alien menace.

Dib got up from his seat, the sound of his movements covered by Zim’s growling at the controls. He tapped quietly toward the back of the ship, happy that he managed to snatch a pair of shoes from someone before he was roughly shoved onto Zim’s new ship by GIR. They were loose, but it was better than being too small. Dib looked over his shoulder, making sure that Zim and the Computer were occupied with each other.

He had all the time in the world, but he felt like hurrying step one along.

The main deck of the ship was open, housing the control switch and a few passenger chairs. The large windows were the biggest benefit, showing off the view of space, and everything around the ship. The interior, however, was a series of catwalks and small square rooms that were jammed in next to each other like a block set. They were interchangeable, and Zim moved them around whenever he got bored.

Dib walked past his own room, where he spent most of his time locked up. Zim let him out whenever he felt like bragging, or whenever GIR wanted to play with his “big headed friend.” Whether or not Zim locked him back up afterwards usually depended on that first criteria, or again, his boredom. Today was a GIR day, and Dib was going to make the best of it.

He reached the last square on the row, and opened the door. The room was full of exhaust from the eternally working machines, and to the back was the frozen chamber that held Gaz.

The alarms to the door sounded, and Dib knew that Zim would be there in a matter of minutes, cursing and ready to break Dib’s legs. He had always threatened as much before when warning Dib to stay the hell away.

Dib slammed his hand into the release mechanism of the case, and watched the countdown to release begin. The loud hiss of the chamber sounded, covering the sound of Zim’s Pak Legs.

“DIB-PIG,” Zim screeched.

Dib felt the Pak Leg go through his shoulder again, in Zim’s favorite place, but remained standing. He grabbed the leg, almost amused to see it touch the ground again, having gone straight through Dib’s flesh. Zim dragged the Pak Leg back, and Dib stumbled with it, feeling the blood hit the ground.

“Why are you smiling!?” Zim screeched, grabbing Dib’s cheek. “Stop it!”

“Zim.”

The single name echoed through the entire room, stilling the alien. Dib looked over, almost amused as he felt Zim’s Pak Leg tremble through his wound. They both watched as Gaz stepped down from the frozen prison, anger in her eyes. Her fingers twitched, and darkness swooshed into the room, coming to her call.

“It’s like you said, Zim,” Dib coughed, spitting a splatter of blood on Zim’s cheek. It hissed, and the smoke that rose from it filled the air. “We really can’t afford to play fair any more.”

Zim shrieked as Gaz ran at him, and Dib hit the ground with a thud. He tugged himself over to the side wall and held in the laugh as Zim began screaming. It really wasn’t that funny.

He wouldn’t have wished an angry Gaz on anyone.


End file.
